The Memory Keeper: The Sin In Our Name

Rain's POV

When I stepped into Dr. Simmons' loft, my breath caught in my throat. The space was massive-300 square meters of industrial minimalist perfection. The high ceilings exposed steel beams, while large windows invited streams of natural light to illuminate the space. Every detail seemed curated, a reflection of her refined taste.

Beautiful paintings adorned the walls, a mix of abstract pieces and vivid landscapes that seemed to tell their own stories. On one wall hung photographs, each capturing a moment frozen in time: a street in Paris, waves crashing against a rocky shore, a child laughing in a rainstorm. Her talent in both art and photography was undeniable.

The apartment felt refreshing, its neutral tones paired with warm accents of wood and soft furnishings. A tall, sleek shelf caught my attention, packed with books-everything from medical journals to novels and art history texts. A plush reading nook sat nearby, a cozy corner surrounded by the quiet hum of creativity.

Dr. Simmons walked in ahead of me, setting her bag on a minimalist kitchen island. "Make yourself at home," she said, her voice warm. "You look like you need something soothing. Tea? Coffee? Or... maybe wine?"

I nodded, still taking in the space. "This place is... incredible," I murmured, walking toward one of the paintings.

She smiled as she poured a glass of wine. "It's my sanctuary. Every piece here has a story. Maybe someday, when you're ready, I can share them with you."

Her words carried a gentleness that made the apartment feel even more inviting. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't feel like I was drowning. Instead, I felt a tiny sliver of peace, as if this place-and maybe this person-could help me start to heal.

•••
Khai's POV

Panic coursed through me as I paced my office, phone in hand. Rain wasn't answering any of my calls or texts. I'd called everyone-Therese, Kroft, even Jessica-but none of them had any idea where she was. My last hope had been Dad, and his words only deepened the pit in my stomach.

"She was crying, Khai," Dad had said, his voice tinged with concern. "I saw her leave the building earlier, but I didn't stop her. I thought she just needed some air."

Rain crying. Leaving the building. That image haunted me as I sat down heavily in my chair, running a hand through my hair. My blazer hung limply on the back of my seat, the undone tie around my neck adding to the disheveled state I was in.

"What the hell happened?" I muttered to myself, heart pounding. Could it have been something at work? Or worse-did she find out about Ella and me?

The thought sent a cold chill down my spine. No. Rain couldn't know. No one could've told her. But then again, why else would she be so upset?

I grabbed my phone again, dialing Rain's number for what felt like the hundredth time. Straight to voicemail. Frustration and fear bubbled up inside me.

"Rain, it's me again," I said, my voice cracking slightly as I left another message. "Please, just call me back. I need to know you're okay. I'm worried about you, baby. Whatever it is, we can talk about it. I love you."

I ended the call and leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as guilt clawed at my chest.

Then I thought of Ella. She was the only person who could tie into this mess. Picking up my phone again, I dialed her number. It rang twice before she picked up.

"Khai," Ella said, her voice light and casual, as if nothing was wrong.

"What did you do, Ella?" I snapped, not bothering with pleasantries. "Did you say something to Rain?"